


One Last Night

by weepingnaiad



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003), Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-17
Updated: 2009-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-17 03:59:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/pseuds/weepingnaiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b>  The brothers spend a last night alone before Boromir leaves for Rivendell…</p><p><b>Content Advisory:</b>  Incest, mild bondage</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Last Night

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:** The faster than a speeding bullet, yet ever graceful, Chaotic_Binky! Thanks do not adequately convey my gratitude!
> 
>  **A/N:** This was written for the 2009 Slashy Valentine fic exchange at the last minute because an author was unable to meet the deadline. The request was: _'Sex (hot and graphic); Hurt/comfort; Boromir very distraught and insecure because of ...(your choice), Faramir offers strength and comfort even with his body; include a little angst, kink, glove fetish and I'll thank you on my knees.'_
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** The characters and world belong to the Master himself, Tolkien. I am only borrowing them so they can come out and frolic a bit, not intending any copyright infringement of any sort. I do own my original characters, but they are available for parties!

Boromir’s green eyes gazed around his spartan room. The few belongings that had any meaning had all been given to him by Faramir, the most treasured of which were already safely tucked away in his pack. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. The sparseness of the room echoed the emptiness of his life. He was a warrior, a soldier, a fighter, not a diplomat! His increasingly dark thoughts about the upcoming journey were interrupted by a light tapping on the door. Boromir smiled. He knew who was there. “Come in, little brother.”

Faramir opened the door with one hand while holding the other behind him. His blue eyes sparkled with delight as he closed and locked the door behind him. He was determined to banish all melancholy this night so that they both had pleasant memories to hold onto during the upcoming separation. The younger brother stopped after taking a few steps into the room, the sparkle of his eyes dimming. He already missed Boromir and his brother had not even left!

Boromir read the path that his brother’s thoughts were taking and determined to distract him. He grinned at his younger brother as he asked, “What are you hiding?” He stalked up to Faramir and circled him, ever closer, but never touching; only teasing. The shorter man had to turn in place to keep his gifts hidden.

Suddenly Boromir stopped before Faramir. The heat radiating from the elder man made him flush. He swallowed and met his brother’s intense gaze. “I… I have two things, ‘Romir.” He took a step back, needing to distance himself for a moment. After placing his right hand behind his back, he brought his left forward and presented his brother with a small aged cask. “This is Dwarven brandy. To toast your journey… and safe return.” Faramir’s voice cracked. He had not told his brother of his premonition that they would not see each other again. Licking suddenly dry lips, he handed his brother the box he held. “And, these… these you can guess their use.”

Boromir set the cask on the side table and reached for the box, intrigued by the glint in Faramir’s eyes. He lifted the lid and pulled out a pair of black, butter soft, kidskin gloves. The box was tossed aside and the gloves slid on two, large hands. They fit perfectly. Boromir reached for his brother and caressed a smooth cheek. When the younger man shivered at the touch, their eyes met, and Boromir’s other hand snaked around his brother’s waist, pulling him closer as he slowly stroked his gloved thumb along Faramir’s jaw. Their eyes met for an instant before the tension shattered and their lips crashed together.

His brother’s moans enflamed Boromir. Faramir was so responsive to his touch, arching into his hands and mouth, aligning their bodies and pressing into his, while eager hands scrabbled to open laces, ties, and buttons, desperate to reach bare skin. When Faramir’s bow-callused palms slid under his shirt, Boromir began to match his brother’s moans. Intense need drove them into a frenzy and clothes soon became tangled in their rush to undress each other without releasing the heated kiss.

Boromir pulled back, gasping. He held his brother’s arms as he pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed as he fought to slow their headlong rush. He wanted this too badly, needed his brother as never before, needed to remember every inch of the firm body, his scent, his taste, the feel of his skin. Taking a shuddering breath, he spoke, his voice husky and deep, “You always know exactly what I want and need, little brother… even before I do. Gods, I will miss you!”

Faramir recognized his brother’s desire to slow their frenzied pace, to make this night memorable. No words were necessary, they never were. He pressed a chaste kiss to Boromir’s lips and moved to the side table. After taking two goblets from the cabinet, Faramir poured the amber liquid and turned back to his brother. Boromir had removed his clothes, and stood silhouetted by the firelight in naught but tight leather leggings and the black gloves. Faramir gasped as one glove slid down the lightly furred, muscular chest until it rested along the visible bulge in his leggings. The glow from the fire haloed his brother’s form, etching dark grooves into the golden expanse of skin on his chest and abdomen.

After Faramir offered Boromir a goblet, they silently toasted each other and sipped the strong liquid. Its flavor blazing on their tongues as it burnt a fiery trail into them before the warmth settled in their stomachs and began to creep toward their limbs, calming them both. Boromir opened his arms, beckoning, and Faramir stepped into his brother’s strong embrace. They stood together in silence, the fire crackling at their backs, as each clung to the other, never wanting to let go. It had been this way from the moment their mother had died. Their father had broken that day and the young brothers had had no one but each other for comfort, since the Steward considered his five and ten year old sons too old for minders. Even now, though he feared being sent for a duty that more suited Faramir, Boromir needed to offer comfort, to be strong for the perfect soul that was his younger brother.

Faramir broke the silence, Boromir’s name whispered against his brother’s neck. Boromir looked down, his emerald gaze meeting Faramir’s now indigo eyes. The depth of need and love shining from his brother’s face pierced his heart and he claimed the soft lips gently. Their tongues met and dueled lazily, tasting the brandy and each other. The fire grew and the kisses became more intense as their passion flared.

In mere moments, the goblets were set aside and they were on the bed, Faramir splayed out as Boromir tugged at his boots, while he struggled with his shirt. Faramir snorted as his last boot popped free and Boromir fell on his arse. Boromir growled and pounced on his brother, starting to tickle him until the writhing, gasping body arched against him and sent frissons of desire shooting down his spine. Faramir froze at the wicked glint that appeared in his brother’s eyes. His own eyes widened as his arms were pulled over his head and Boromir’s tongue flicked out to tease an exposed nipple. He was too sensitive and overheated and groaned aloud at the light touch.

When Faramir reached to tangle his hands in Boromir’s hair to steady himself, Boromir growled and lifted himself to his knees and straddled his brother’s lithe form. He shook his head and pressed Faramir’s hands back over his head. “Nay, little brother. Tonight, you are at my whim and pleasure.” The younger man’s eyes grew wide as Boromir reached and tore away the strip of cloth holding back the bed curtains. He shivered as the soft linen was wrapped around his wrists and he was tied to the headboard. “Much better.” Boromir’s eyes danced over his brother’s bound form; the hastily indrawn breath, the slight sheen of sweat on golden skin, the pink tongue that licked dry lips. He could see the conflict in Faramir’s eyes. His brother was sensitive and needed to touch, to allow his hands to roam as they made love, but he could not when restrained. Boromir leaned down and tenderly kissed his brother, calming and soothing him. “It is my night to lavish attention on you.”

Faramir groaned, but nodded. Boromir knew him too well, knew everything that drove him mad. From the look in Boromir’s eyes, it was going to be a long night spent drowning in pleasure. He shivered from longing.

Boromir checked the bindings and, once satisfied that they were not too tight, he smirked at his brother before lifting up and sliding Faramir’s leggings off. His arousal bobbed free and Boromir could not resist leaning down for a quick lick along the hard length. Faramir groaned and bucked in response before he was pressed into the mattress. “None of that, or I shall tie your legs… and blindfold you.” Both were idle threats. He would not cover his brother’s eyes. There was nothing more intoxicating than those blue eyes, darkened with desire and then half-lidded from satiation. Boromir basked in his brother’s gaze and would not, this last night, deprive himself of it.

Faramir stilled, gripped tightly to the iron rungs he was tied to and tried to do as commanded. His muscles twitched, but he finally relaxed into the mattress and gave himself to Boromir for the night.

Boromir felt Faramir relax and the tension slowly uncoil from his body. He smirked and set about to create a completely different sort of tension. Gloved hands began to explore and slide over Faramir’s lightly muscled form. His brother’s skin was light with freckles dotting his nose, his nipples were pink and his body flushed easily. He was so responsive with the softest skin, a smooth, hairless chest, and only a light trail leading from his navel to his groin.

Faramir trembled and shivered as the soft leather gloved hands explored and caressed his skin. He wanted to wrap himself around Boromir, to return the attention, but he was stymied by the bindings. He moaned low in his throat as the leather fingers dragged over his nipples and then pinched them. Boromir leaned in and his tongue followed, tasting. The flavor of leather mingled with Faramir’s slightly salty tang. The elder brother groaned in response and sucked the other nipple in, nibbling lightly as his hands roamed higher, stroking Faramir’s neck and cradling his head. Boromir then lifted his head and placed kisses on his brother’s neck. Uncaring of who would see it, he sucked forcefully at the pulse point, dragging a loud moan from Faramir, who tilted his head back and offered more of himself. “Aye!” was the ranger’s only response to being visibly marked and claimed.

His brother’s eager response enflamed Boromir and he sought to draw out more of the noises Faramir was making. He slid his teeth along the strong jawline until he was nibbling the sensitive flesh behind his brother’s ear. Faramir thrashed and cried out. Boromir smiled against the warm flesh. He pressed his knee between Faramir’s thighs and held his brother down with his hands. Already Faramir was panting and needy. “Please…” he begged.

“Please what, brother?” Boromir’s eyes were mischievous. He straddled his brother and then stretched out fully on him, aligning them and completely covering the smaller form with his own. Faramir closed his eyes and pressed up into an answering hardness. He moaned and tried to form words, but failed. “Tell me, ‘Mir. Tell me what you want.” Boromir’s voice brushed against heated skin.

Groaning, Faramir licked dry lips and swallowed, trying to find the words. “I need you, ‘Romir. Take me, claim me, make me yours. I need to feel you… remember… while you are away.”

Boromir’s heart swelled. He needed the same, desperately needing to know that his life was not empty and meaningless, that he was loved and wanted. Their next kiss was searing and claiming as tongues and teeth dueled. “I love you, little brother… always.”

Faramir could not speak as Boromir gave him what he needed. The elder brother languorously slid down his body, licking and sucking, leaving a trail of love marks in his wake. He bypassed the aching arousal and continued down the long, lean legs, alternating between firmly massaging the muscles and teasingly mouthing them. But his own arousal was pulsing and he was drawn by his brother’s musky scent. Unable to delay any longer, Boromir slid his hands to cup Faramir’s arse. He lifted his brother’s hips and buried his face in the silky curls.

Faramir thrashed and begged, “Please! ‘Romir! No more teasing!”

Boromir glanced up and met his brother’s needy gaze. He lifted his head and slid his tongue up the pulsing shaft, teasing the slit for a taste of his brother’s pre-come. Faramir groaned, but did not look away. Boromir continued to lick slowly up and down, until he sucked the bulbous head in and lightly grazed his teeth down the shaft as he took the entire length in his mouth. Faramir tried to arch up, but two leather clad hands held tight to his arse, holding him steady. Boromir swallowed, his throat massaging the hard shaft. Faramir gasped and tugged at his bonds. “Stop! Please! Too soon!”

Boromir did as asked and let the arousal slip from his lips. He slid his hands along Faramir’s trembling flanks to calm him. They were far from done and he would bide his time. Patience would pay off in this. As Faramir calmed, Boromir began to tease him again. Sliding his tongue slowly along the firm shaft. He then sucked in one tender sac and gently rolled it around in his mouth, gently grazing it with his teeth as he grasped the proud erection in a gloved hand and stroked. He was ready for Faramir’s reaction, and kept his brother firmly pressed into the mattress when he tried to arch up and away. The other sac was treated to the same attention while he continued to stroke the younger man’s erection. Boromir smiled around the warm flesh. He loved driving his brother mad.

Faramir’s arms began to ache from pulling against his bonds, but he was uncaring as he was slowly being driven out of his mind by exquisite torture. The gloves had been his idea, the feel of soft leather dragging against his flesh arousing, but he had no idea just how good they would feel, or how eagerly Boromir would take to teasing him with them. He could barely form coherent thoughts as he was stroked and teased.

Once again Boromir smiled. He knew what he was doing to Faramir. His brother was an open book, never hiding anything from him. Faramir was desperate and half mad from need. Emerald eyes glinted. He would drive his brother over the edge. Both hands moved to Faramir’s arse and lifted his brother. Faramir shifted, bent his knees, and pressed his feet flat to the bed, opening himself up for his brother. Boromir gazed at the puckered opening and slowly swiped his flattened tongue over it and up, wetting and teasing. Faramir gasped and arched up. He was held fast and gloved thumbs reached and spread his cheeks wider, opening him to Boromir’s attentions.

Soon the long, slow teasing licks were not enough and Boromir pointed his tongue and stabbed it into the tight hole. The muscle clenched and released as dark flavor burst on his tongue. His moans mingled with Faramir’s as he slowly pressed a gloved thumb alongside his tongue. The tight heat clenched and rippled against the invasion but he pressed steadily onward, still stabbing and licking. Faramir’s trembling intensified as his release began to coil in his groin. Boromir felt the muscles tightening and releasing. He knew what was coming, and pressed the leather covered digit all the way in, firmly dragging over Faramir’s sweet spot.

That last touch was all it took and Faramir climaxed. His release slammed through him as he cried out and shuddered while his prostrate was still being massaged, dragging out his orgasm. He collapsed back to the bed, his legs flopped open as every muscle went limp. When he could focus again, he opened his eyes to see Boromir’s smiling face over him. He was kissed gently and he tasted himself, a heady elixir. “Now? Please? ‘Romir? I need you.”

Boromir nodded before giving one last lingering kiss. “Aye, ‘Mir. Wet me?” At Faramir’s quick nod and eager lick to his lips, Boromir groaned. He wriggled out of his leggings and moved to his knees, straddling his brother’s chest as he offered his own straining, purple arousal to Faramir’s sweet mouth. He was quickly engulfed and strong suction, as well as a talented tongue, were working their magic on him – too well. He hastily pulled out and mock scolded, “Nay. Not like that.”

Boromir shifted down and wrapped his brother’s legs around his waist. He aligned their bodies and guided his shaft to Faramir’s tight heat. Gazing lovingly down at his brother, he paused, questioning, “Ready, little one?”

“Aye!” Faramir nodded and arched his hips up, impaling himself.

Boromir groaned and finished what Faramir started, pressing all the way home in one long slide. He paused, took a deep breath and blinked back tears. This was where he belonged. This was the only home he had ever known, in Faramir’s arms and heart. His brother wriggled and thrust up. Taking the hint Boromir began to push in and out, thrusting in long slow strokes, changing the angle until he found the spot that made Faramir cry out. He aimed there and pressed forward and back, steadily increasing the tempo until he was pistoning in and out of the tight heat. His release was building and he gripped Faramir’s renewed erection tightly, stroking it in time with his thrusts. Soon the stimuli was too much and he stilled, “Come!” gasped from his lips before his whole body shuddered, two more hard thrusts and his release spilled deep inside Faramir.

Faramir moaned and arched into the thrusts. He was getting pounded into the mattress, being claimed, just as he had wanted. Boromir dragged against his sweet spot and he saw stars. Before he knew it, a gloved hand was tugging against his flesh and he climaxed again; his orgasm drawn out by Boromir’s thrusts and the twitching of his spent shaft in his channel as his brother collapsed on him.

Boromir lifted himself and gazed down upon his brother’s beautiful face, his lashes brushing the flushed skin of his cheeks. He forced himself to rise, but Faramir used his legs to hold him as he shook his head. “Nay, stay.”

Boromir leaned over and kissed his brother’s mouth while untying his hands. “Shhh. I am only going to get a wet cloth to clean us up.”

Faramir murmured his discontent but released his hold. Boromir returned with a wet cloth and cleaned them up before tossing the cloth aside and clambering into bed. He pulled the blankets over them and gathered Faramir into his arms, tucking his brother under his chin. “Sleep now, little one. Rest.” Faramir was too spent and sated to argue. He could never deny Boromir, even when he knew he did not want to miss a minute of their last night together. So he slept, peacefully, until shortly before dawn.

Boromir held his brother and threaded his fingers through the silky auburn waves. His eyes lingered over the fair face, which looked so young and innocent while asleep, with no cares to mar his beauty. The elder brother drank in each feature, every little imperfection. He etched this moment in his memories, somehow knowing that he would not have this opportunity again. He finally dozed and did not wake until sweet lips kissed him gently and whispered in his ear, “Wake, ‘Romir. It is near dawn. We should be up before Father comes looking for you.”

Boromir could not argue, but held Faramir even more tightly and kissed him hungrily. “I will miss you, little brother.” His voice faltered, “I do not want to go.”

Faramir responded eagerly, kissing his brother back and pouring the depth of his feelings into this last moment. “I wish it was me, as well. Your place is here, at Father’s side. He does so much better with your counsel. You keep him grounded.”

Boromir could only nod before placing a light kiss to his brother’s nose. “And I am no diplomat. But enough of this. Let us greet the day as we always have… our heads held high and proud. We are the sons of Gondor, an inspiration to our people. We cannot be morose or melancholy. Our people need an example in these dark days.”

They both pulled away and began to dress in silence. Neither wanted to be parted, but they had no choice. Duty called and they would both do as bid, as they always had.

Boromir tucked the kidskin gloves into his pack. He would never part with them, they carried Faramir’s scent. He would always have a piece of his brother with him as long as he had the gloves.

Faramir picked up Boromir’s pack as his brother sheathed his sword and tied on his shield and horn. None could help but be inspired by Boromir, and Faramir smiled, pride and love shining from his eyes. They shared one last intimate embrace and kiss before leaving their private world behind.

~~~*~~~

Faramir stood and watched his brother’s party disappear into the distance. He had been standing at the tower for a long time, the cold air whipping around him. If anyone had seen his tears, he would blame the stinging wind and not his brother’s departure. His heart ached as he waved farewell one last time.

The End


End file.
